


i wanna wake up where you are

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Make Daisy Happy, New Relationship, Romance, not Lincoln friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 02:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6593335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first time in months Daisy is happy sleeping in her own room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna wake up where you are

Daisy had been dreading sleeping in her room for months and months.

First came the nightmares, the not recognizing her own body and fearing she might wake up to a world in ruins because of it, everything destroyed around her; then there was sharing her bed with someone who made her feel crowded, trapped, like the choice to be with him was never hers, someone she didn’t feel she could really talk to; and afterwards there was the haunting loneliness of it, where she was sure she’d do anything to keep something bad in her life than to have nothing at all and she started missing feeling crowded and suffocated, as much as she had hated it before.

Tonight she wakes up and it’s still early, around three she guesses, and Coulson is not crowding or suffocating her. He’s neatly lying on the other side of the bed, with plenty of space between their bodies, like he was terrified of upsetting Daisy’s night with his presence. And still, he has his right hand resting over the curve of Daisy’s hip, like he couldn’t bear the idea of being completely separated from her while he slept, like he needed the fragile thread of connection. His touch is gentle, his fingers are not grabbing her or making sure she stays where she is, it’s not about that.

Daisy turns on her back, wanting to feel Coulson’s hand slide from her waist to her stomach, wanting more surface, more of it, more of the quiet unassuming touch on her body, and wanting to see his resting face, a new side of him - now that she knows the delight of lust in his face, and the giggle of love in his voice when he’s being kissed, now that she knows how youthful and lost he looks when he gives his heart to someone all hopeful and afraid - she wants to know how he looks when he sleeps.

But the movement wakes him up.

He frowns and makes an old-man growly noise when he realizes he’d been woken up. It’s really funny to look at but it also makes Daisy feel bad because he probably needs the rest.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Coulson asks while he opens his eyes. Daisy is so close to him that she notices his eyelashes, maybe for the first time, longer than she thought they were.

“No, I think _I_ woke you,” Daisy replies.

He doesn’t seem too bothered by it, he smiles and presses his mouth to hers for a moment. Like his hand on her hip the kiss is light, more like he wants a moment of connection to make sure she’s here, they are here together. Daisy is probably just projecting, but it’s nice to imagine Coulson has those fears too.

“Why did you want to come to my room?” she asks.

“Mm?” he wonders, unaware of what she’s talking about.

“Before, when we…” she can’t seem to form the words. Apparently having (awesome) sex with her middle-aged boss and best friend is fine in her book but talking about her makes her feel too awkward just yet. “You _insisted_ we came to my room.”

“That,” Coulson says.

At first he doesn’t answer, and he lifts his hand to touch the curve of her neck and the edges of her hair in a way that Daisy thinks he has forgotten the question almost immediately. She doesn’t mind too much, not with his tender fingers brushing her cheek and his eyes focusing on every inch of her in a way that makes Daisy feel loved and inadequate (in a good way, not in the awful, permanent way she’s been feeling inadequate since she was nine).

“I just wanted to be where you are,” he says eventually. “Your room, with your things.”

“What’s so great about that?” Daisy asks.

“Well, it’s obvious,” Coulson tells her, holding her gaze, like he’s daring her to just accept his words. “And this place makes me feel safe.”

“You’ve never been before,” she points out.

“But I knew it would,” he says, seriously. “And my room…” he purses his lips, like picking the words carefully. He wasn’t careful with his words last night, precisely, and Daisy got endless _I love you_ s and _I want you_ s out of the bargain, each no less precious because there were many. “My room doesn’t hold great memories precisely.”

Nightmares and loneliness. 

Daisy gets it.

By the time they moved into the Playground the Kree blood inside Coulson’s body was already forcing him to act against his will.

“I just… I’d rather be here,” Coulson tells her, earnest. 

She presses her hand against his chest. She thinks she can feel the hard flesh of his scar through his t-shirt. Just like he had insisted on going to Daisy’s room he had insisted on not undressing completely. Not yet anyway. It’s okay, Daisy decides, learning that love can’t fix you. Only _you_ can fix you. And that’s a good thing. Holding each other like she and Coulson are doing now, while they figure things out, that’s good enough.

“Okay, but next time I want to go to your room,” she tells him.

He gets a little confused expression.

“Why?”

“It’s yours, with your things,” she says, right back at him, spreading on the pillow to kiss his cheek - but since they are on their side she gets mostly his nose. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Coulson assures her.

She remembers why she went after what she wanted and kissed him - and no, it’s not just because he looks really good in that t-shirt. He would never use her to solve his own problems; he would never agree to be a burden to Daisy, not even if she wanted. She looks around and for the first time in months it feels good to be in her room, in her bed. There’s no dreading this moment anymore. She doesn’t have to fear sharing this bed with the wrong person, and she doesn’t have to fear not having anyone to share it with. 

Which of course makes her even more decided to sleep in Coulson’s bunk next time.

“Plus, your room is bigger, right?” she jokes.

“Guilty as charged,” he says, smirking a little, the implicit concession that he’ll let her sleep in his bed next time. Next time. That sounds good.

She smiles. She gets the feeling she hasn’t stopped smiling since she kissed Coulson and Coulson kissed her back in his office hours ago.

She gets the feelings she hasn’t stopped smiling since they first met.

When they go back to sleep in a few minutes he doesn’t have to limit himself to just wrapping his fingers around her hip and keeping to his side of the bed. Daisy throws his arm around her and Coulson holds her close, once he is sure he’s been given permission. He holds her so tight and yet Daisy doesn’t feel crowded or trapped.


End file.
